


A bug in bloom

by avatarsarny



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, post-reveal, shameless fluff, this is hella old but i just joined this site so i'm posting it here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarsarny/pseuds/avatarsarny
Summary: Spring is here, and his Lady’s scent is too good for this kitty to resist. Just some post-reveal, aged-up Adrinette goodness, with a healthy dose of sin.





	

She seemed to glow right then, as she stood smiling softly at him at the Eiffel Tower’s edge, the sunset filling in around her form like a blinding halo.

It suited her, he thought, and he braved the too-bright rays just to brand that image of her in his mind, in his memory, for safekeeping as long as he lived.

She giggled as Chat sat there, slack-jawed and ogling her as much as he could while the sun got in his eyes and made them water. She stepped away from the Tower’s edge, closer to him, reveling in the post-battle moment of peace and calm atop the city of light.

“Don’t cry, kitty.” she said, grinning widely at him now.

Chat Noir blinked several times. “It’s the sun, my lady. But looking at you is more than worth the damage to my retinas,” he replied smoothly, leaning down to wipe at his eyes. Was it the sun? Because the last time he checked, he was an emotional sap who indeed cried at everything he found awe-inspiring. His Lady was no exception, it seemed. He sighed.

God, he was hopeless. 

And exhausted. 

Ladybug drew ever closer, till she came within breathing distance, and knelt before him to cup his cheeks in her palms. 

He drew in a long breath, a week’s worth of fatigue slamming into him like a sledgehammer. He’d been working too hard for too long; from endless photoshoots to interviews to philanthropic events to helping his parents run the fashion world, he’d barely gotten the chance over the past week to eat more than a few rushed spoonfuls here and there, nor any time to spend with his Lady or see his friends. And now, after breaking a string of burglaries as the resident superhero duo, he wasn’t quite sure whether he’d be able to stay conscious for much longer. And he _still_ wouldn’t be free to rest. The spring season was hell in the fashion industry.

He didn’t register Ladybug’s lilting voice, until he felt a press of velvet-soft lips to his own. 

She knelt in front of him, biting her lip in worry. “Please don’t burn your retinas for me. You look drained, kitty. I know you’ve been overworked lately,” she murmured. “We should go home.” She laced her fingers in his, and he didn’t have the will to deny her.

She led him home, throwing her yo-yo across blue rooftops and sun-drenched chimneys, over lush gardens and trees in full bloom, back to their cozy apartment across the Seine. 

Chat Noir climbed unsteadily through their bedroom window, just as Ladybug transformed into a midnight-haired Marinette. A light breeze ruffled through the tresses framing her face, still flushed from their masked escapade. 

A stronger gust of wind lifted the hem of her shirt, and suddenly the most  _delectable_  scent reached his nose, breathing life back into his fatigued body. Like warm honey, sweeter than any vanilla; light and spicy and playful and  _bloomin_ g.

He inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut of their own accord; an appreciative growl quietly escaped his throat. The fragrance cut out all the chill of spring evening air, spreading heat all the way down his spine, across his abdomen, igniting something  _wild_  and making his head buzz. 

Plagg took that chance to zoom out of his ring to join Tikki for a nap, and Adrien materialized from a flash of green light, feeling as though he were about to collapse. 

Marinette was at his side in a heartbeat - she took his hands and pulled him into her, and his mind went blissfully blank. 

Sweetness and a hint of spice flooded his senses again;  _Marinette,_  oh god she smelled like every flower garden in Paris combined, like dark chocolate and cinnamon and nectar all rolled into one. The feral cat in him roared to life, he let out another low growl against the junction of her neck and shoulder, pressing a searing kiss there. He wanted to see if she tasted as good as she smelled; wanted to pay loving homage to every inch of her decadent body, wanted to do so  _right no_ w.

A tiny gasp from Mari tore through his thoughts like a well-shot arrow; and the cat inside him went back into slumber as Adrien begrudgingly drew away from her embrace. 

Marinette’s face flashed hurt for a split second, but concern immediately took its place.  “Adrien,” she reached for him, “you really, really need to get some rest.”

He gave her a tired smile. “I still have so much to do, Bugaboo.”

“So do I.”

“My Lady,” he sighed, “It’s  _spring_. There’s the press conference on Monday for your new line and -” she placed a gentle finger to his lips.

“I think,” she murmured, “ you’re coming down with something.” She brushed her palm across his forehead, and her scent wafted tantalizingly before him once again. 

Visions of pale skin and midnight hair fanned out over their twisting bodies flared in his mind. Rosy cheeks flushed with pleasure, pleasure that he alone would give her, he wanted to press himself against her till there was no distinction where he began and she ended. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to retain some form of control over his thoughts. He couldn’t do that to her, he would love her as  _Adrien_ , not like a feral cat in heat.

His Lady’s sweet voice broke through his torment. “Adrien! Are you in pain?” Small hands buried themselves in his hair, fingers rubbed soothing circles into his scalp. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” 

“I’m fine,” he squeaked, and his voice sounded weak even to him. 

She frowned. “You’re burning up. I think I should get you in bed, Mister. I’ll make that soup you like, the one Papa made up! Hm, I’ll have to go buy more onions, do you think the cheese in the fridge is still good enough-mmph!”

It took every ounce of willpower he had to pull his lips from hers, leaving them both flustered and yearning. 

“Wait,” he panted. “Mari, it’s not that. I think,” his eyes fluttered shut, “I think it’s you.”

His eyes snapped open, pinning her with a gaze she hadn’t seen before, like she was about to be worshiped and devoured, all at once. As if he would break into a thousand pieces if she didn’t touch him soon. 

_Ah,_  she realized.  _It’s spring_. She should’ve known. 

Warmth pooled low in her belly; she knew he would be unpredictable like this, as he hungrily watched her, like a cat that had found a bowl of fresh cream.

Marinette watched as he struggled to regain composure, could see the young man fighting the cat within, the innate tendency a Miraculous holder developed to end up adopting some of the traits of their animal guardians. 

She knew of the fragrance she gave off every spring, like real Ladybugs did, detectable only by the most acute sense of smell.

And in Adrien’s sleep-deprived, feverish state, a single whiff was torture. He had no energy left in him to do what the cat in him so desired to do, and it was tearing him apart.

Her breath caught in her throat. He would rather see himself suffer than force himself on her; always took the beating for her in battle,  _always made sure to give her every ounce of pleasure before he thought about chasing his own_ …

“Oh no, this won’t do,” she whispered. She moved so that her face was mere inches from him own, and he immediately dipped his head to the base of her throat, the pull between them like an invisible magnet.

He breathed her in; she was blooming like a vast field of flowers, and he dared to run his tongue against the hollow of her throat, tasting  _heat_  and honey and her own desire.  

She shivered at the contact, but laved reassuring kisses onto the crown of his head, and he  _purred_.

“You’re always giving me everything without a second thought,  _Minou_ ,” She pressed her forehead against his, and he nuzzled into her. “Even now, I know you want to do so, even when you’re like this.” She brought his darkened gaze up to hers. 

“Always, Princess,” he breathed. He moved to hold her close, so that the length of her body would be flush against his own. “Y-you smell  _wonderful,_ you know? I…I can’t ask you to -” 

He swallowed his next words when her finger pressed against his lips. She was looking at him now, blue eyes bright, but the edges were so soft and her smile so wistful, he couldn’t quite work out what she was thinking. Or maybe that was just his brain and body slowing turning to an exhausted pile of mush.

“Do  _you_ know, Chaton?”

He blinked owlishly at her question. “Do I know - what?”

Her eyes caught the last rays of the setting sun, before the stars would come winking out, one by one. “Do you know how wonderful  _you_  are? How lucky I am to have  _you_?” 

Her words sent his sluggish mind reeling, and he gave her a sad smile. “I’m a needy, hormonal, unlucky cat who can’t get himself together?”

She leaned forward, bathing him in her fragrance, peppering soft kisses along his jawline and cheeks. A kiss to each eyelid. A kiss to his nose. A kiss just shy of his own lips that left him wanting.

Her breath fanned over him. “You’re my brave, selfless,  _beautiful_  cat. You’re Adrien,  _my_  Adrien, whether you have ears and a tail or not.” 

His heart seemed to stop, he was certain he was dead, and he shook his head even as she cradled it in her palms. He felt exhilarated and touched by her confession, and drained all at once. He wanted to sleep till this fever disappeared, but she was the balm to his pain, she was warm and soothing and he wanted - oh god he wanted all of her. 

Marinette pushed him gently so that he lay back on the bed, and he tugged at the hem of her shirt, wanting nothing more than to trace his lips all over her bare skin, to fuse his mouth to her soft, pink lips.

In a heartbeat, there was nothing in between, and he roamed trembling hands over every curve, every crevice of pale, scented skin. He would give her everything, love every inch of her, before he lost consciousness.

“Adrien.”

The knot in his heart tightened.

His Lady took his hands in her own, lacing their fingers. “Let me do this for you,” she breathed, before letting him eagerly claim her lips. He purred and sighed and melted into the kiss, his previous tension dripping away to reveal nothing but a single desire to please her. He felt her tiny moan, her fingers reaching up to card through his hair, felt himself grow in response. 

She tasted so pure, like sunlight, drawing the dark feline in him toward the warmth she radiated. She moved away from his lips and rained kisses along his jaw, sending sparks crackling across his skin and down his spine. 

“I know you’re holding back for me, but you don’t have to, so please,” - her hands were cool as they cupped his flushed cheeks, “ _let me_ ,” she implored in his ear, wrapping bare legs around his waist.

His heart swelled for her when he realized what she meant. “Okay,” he breathed out, planting wet kisses against her throat, nodding fervently when she traced dainty hands along his belly.

“Did you know, ever since the trees started blooming, I’ve been eating flowers?” she said quietly. He looked incredulously up at her, and she laughed softly. “Mm. Ladybugs eat the nectar, and Tikki said a few years ago it was a side-effect of being connected to her. I almost snacked out of Maman’s rose garden yesterday!” she broke into a fit of giggles, before meeting his heated gaze.

“You aren’t a monster,” she continued, and she drew a path down the golden hairs disappearing beneath his navel, earning herself a pleasured growl. 

“And - and you’re not alone. We’re just the same, you and I. We can be weird together.” Marinette smiled, eyes brighter than ever, and he crushed her against him.

“ _Mari_ ,” Adrien whispered softly. She dragged his mouth to hers, swallowing all his self-doubt, his fear of hurting her, his insecurities, his very soul. He gripped at her for dear life, feeling the rosy tips of her breasts brush his chest, and his blood sang and thrummed for her _._

He was firm against her belly; the heat of him seemed to burn through her very core, and he sighed into her mouth when she wrapped cool fingers around him.

He shivered and shook as she dragged her hand over him, pleasure gripping him to the point of near pain. 

“M-Marinette,” he rasped, hands scrabbling for her wrist in a sad attempt to deter her torturous movements.

She sweetly kissed his cheeks, and quickly removed her hand from his arousal. It did nothing to dampen the white-hot currents running all over his body; the remnants of her touch made his head spin.

 “Did I hurt you?” she squeaked, peering worriedly into his eyes. 

He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “N-no, you feel _wonderful_ , Princess,” he said breathlessly.

Her shoulders sank in relief. “Oh. Good.” A fresh wave of scarlet flushed over her cheeks.

He nodded fervently. “ _Really_ , _really_ good.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like days, then burst into laughter.

“You dumb cat, stop giving me heart attacks!” she cried out, and he shook with silent mirth, slapping a hand over his mouth to refrain from chuckling at the look on her face. 

“You’re beautiful even when you’re angry, have I ever told you?” he confided quietly, reaching up to run a thumb along the pink tip of her breast. It pebbled immediately at his touch, sending rivulets of heat to her lower belly, drawing a tiny _oh_  of surprise from his beloved. 

She blushed even further, the tips of her ears going red. “I hate you.”

He blinked reproachfully at her, casting his eyes down. “Do you mean that?” 

Cool hands wrapped themselves around his erection, and all of a sudden he was surrounded by _tightness_ and _wet heat_ and _Marinette_ , and his heart had _never_ beat this fast before.

“No.” she replied, never taking her eyes off his, and that was the last thing he heard before he let himself drown. 

Dear god she felt _perfect_. She _was_ perfect, so impossibly smooth and warm, fitting so flawlessly around him that he was convinced that she was made just for him. Her breath hitched as she rolled her hips slightly, and her scent washed over him, the combination of sweetness and slick heat making him lightheaded. He fell back against the sheets, stroking the skin of her hips while she adjusted to him, and watched her with unmasked reverence.

His Lady rocked her hips, rolling them back, then slowly rocking forward again, taking in a little more of him each time, till he could feel her heartbeat thudding possessively around every inch of him. 

The cat in him had never felt more alive; he was purring so hard his chest might have become a small electric motor, his mate’s fragrance wafting in his nose, the gentle roll of her hips over his stoked the fire in his gut that threatened to consume his entire being…

She leaned forward, the shifting of her body making him tremble and swallow, until she lay against him fully.

“Is - is this okay?” she pressed uncertainly, the fullness of him inside her made her dizzy with pleasure and set her nerves alight. 

He had no words. He molded his lips to hers, stealing the last of her breath and spiking her senses. She gasped into his mouth as he struck a spot in her that made her toes curl, and she felt him grinning into the kiss. 

Marinette pulled away from him with a wet _smack,_ and he couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped him _._  “Silly kitty,” she breathed. 

“ _Your_ silly kitty,” Adrien corrected huskily, and he took her wrist to press it to his lips, murmuring prayers and praise and adoration into her skin.

They rose and fell together like the ocean tide, with her guiding the motions, steering them both to the very edges of sanity. He never beheld anything more exquisite; the sight of his Lady writhing on top of him, her bare skin flushed with his ardent attentions, the light of the stars playing off her midnight blue hair, petal-soft lips beckoning to lock with his. 

His eyes fluttered shut as the tidal wave crested and washed over him, he whispered her name over and over as she brought him to that peak, where blinding pleasure met pain, where the coils that wound them together finally blew apart. 

The feral cat in him was ripped to shreds, and he was free.

“Adrien,” she panted, touching her slick forehead to his, kissing his nose, brushing sun-bright hair out of his eyes. He was beautiful even in a tangled, sweaty mess of limbs and mussed hair.

His hands found hers and squeezed them tenderly. “Thank you, my Lady” he mumbled. 

She almost mustered the energy to laugh. “For what?”

The sound of peaceful, even breathing from the man in her arms was her answer.

***

The pale pink rays of the dawn were spilling through the curtains, and for some reason, she was the first one awake.

Adrien was fast asleep, the sheets were rumpled beneath him, curled on his side, blanket draped over his lower half. His skin had a warm, almost golden glow in the faint light, and she had to stop herself from touching him. One hand was a loose fist where she’d escaped; the other tucked under his pillow. Quiet, contented snores puffed against her skin, and he seemed so peaceful, she was reluctant to even wake him up for his favorite breakfast. 

Her eyes skimmed over that jawline, sharpened from boyish cheeks, and long golden eyelashes that fanned out from his lids. Hair that became Chat Noir’s when he slept. 

She’d worn him out, he barely spoke two words before he fell into a sleep so deep it rendered all his features soft and delicately flushed. The tiniest of smiles tipped the corners of his mouth, and she hoped that when he woke, he would see himself the way she would always, _always_ see him. 

He was her lucky charm. 


End file.
